


Forget It

by Jennifer-Oksana (JenniferOksana)



Category: Grey's Anatomy, Heroes (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 14:43:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4923619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferOksana/pseuds/Jennifer-Oksana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a missing patient at Seattle Grace</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forget It

“There’s a patient missing,” Bailey said, giving Cristina the glare. Which, for the first time in a long time, was not the glare of, _You better not even THINK of doing something that isn’t by the books, on the record, and strictly perfect, Yang_. Just the glare of Bailey-ness to indicate that an intern needed to follow her orders or find herself with a foot up her ass.

“Who?” Cristina asked, looking around the pit. Nobody who needed help seemed to have gone unhelped so far. “I’ve done everyone who’s in the room.”

“Bennet, Claire. Eighteen year old female, should have a broken pelvis, and a severe concussion,” Bailey said snappishly. “And a few other minor scrapes, contusions, and other injuries that fit with walking into traffic to save a six year old.”

“She _walked into traffic?_ ” Cristina asked. “How is she not in an OR already? Maybe she’s in an OR and that’s why she’s missing.”

Bailey gave Cristina a look that could only be termed a serious death look. “If she’s in an OR, then you still should know where she is and NOT MISSING on your watch, Yang,” she spat out.

“Well, it’s not like she just walked out,” Cristina said. “Who’s the six year old? Is he or she…”

“He. Jared Quincy, or did you lose him too?” Bailey asked. Cristina shook her head and walked over to a hospital bed, where a sandy-haired little boy with a cast on his wrist was lying, his mother hovering. “Mrs. Quincy.”

“Yes,” the woman said. “Have you seen that brave young woman who saved my son? I want to thank her for saving his life.”

“Her injuries were fairly serious, ma’am,” Bailey said, throwing Cristina a glare that screamed pain that wouldn’t even be blunted by death. “Did you happen to see where the paramedics put her?”

“Serious? But I saw her sitting up,” Mrs. Quincy said. “Jared, sweetie, did you see where that girl went?”

“She got bored and went away,” said Jared. “Maybe she went potty.”

Cristina stared at the kid. “Went potty? Did you see her stand up?” she asked, heart starting to pound. The last thing she needed was some college girl, jacked up on adrenaline, dead in the bathroom.

“Yeah. She even waved,” Jared said. “Look, there she is.”

Cristina and Bailey, unaware of their matching expressions, turned and stared. Jared was pointing to a short blonde girl without a scratch on her, though her clothes were pretty messed up. She smiled at the surgeons sheepishly, as if she weren’t some kind of freakish medical miracle walking among them.

“What are you doing?” Bailey asked, so shocked that she couldn’t even manage the glare of death. “Miss Bennet, you have serious injuries. You shouldn’t be out of your bed right now.”

“But I’m fine,” Claire Bennet said. “I’m tough.”

“Correct if I’m wrong, but didn’t you collide with a minivan going thirty-five miles an hour?” Cristina asked with a little laugh of disbelief. “I don’t think you win in a small blonde girl versus minivan fight, tough or not.”

“You’d be surprised,” Claire said with a little smile. “Can we do this fast? I have a test in bio to study for.”

“Bio?” Cristina asked as Bailey hustled Claire back toward her bed with yet another new Bailey expression of being pushed to her limits. “What’s your major?”

“I’m thinking evolutionary biology,” Claire said. “I know, I look like this blonde cheerleader type, right? But I’m really interested in evolution, even though my minor is easier — religious studies.”

“Go you,” Cristina said as she started to examine Claire’s pelvis. “Bailey, there’s no fracture here. Or in the legs. Or if there is, it’s minor”

“Check her for the concussion, and for a broken shoulder,” Bailey said, staring at Claire intently, shaking her head, and staring again, like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. “And next time, young lady, I don’t care how good you’re feeling, you don’t stand up after a car crash until your doctor says so.”

Claire nodded, while her eyes followed Cristina’s beam of light perfectly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think I’d be gone long enough to scare y’all, but there was a line for the bathroom,” she said.

Bailey sputtered and Cristina looked away and cleared her throat because laughing would be bad. Bailey’s rage was turned from Cristina onto blonde cheerleader studying evo bio, laughing would bring it right back and intensify it and Cristina did not want that.

“You had a broken pelvis — or at least the EMT said you did — so you do not GET UP, understand me?” Bailey said, but her usual glare of doom had been weakened into a glower of confusion and discomfort. “Let’s get you X-rayed and possibly discharged, Miss Bennet.”

“Sure, no problem,” Claire said, smiling a charming smile. “Is that little boy gonna be okay?”

“He’s gonna be fine,” Cristina said, thinking that maybe it was impossible for blonde girl to go against a minivan and win, and that this could potentially be something to write up later. “Bailey, I can take care of her from here.”

Bailey snorted. “You already lost her once, Yang. I’ll take care of Miss Bennet, and you get back to work in the pit.”

Cristina nodded, wishing a sigh and an eyeroll were not risky moves in this environment, and waved good-bye to Claire before going back to work.

If Bailey convinced Claire Bennet to do some tests to understand how she came out of walking into traffic without a scratch, Cristina was going to throw a tantrum. Bigger than the ones Sloan threw over a bad latte.

“Excuse me,” a man said, tapping Cristina on the shoulder. “I’m looking for Claire Bennet. Have you seen her?”

“I’m sorry, sir, we don’t release patient information without a consent form,” Cristina said. “If you ask the receptionist in the ER, I’m certain she’ll be able to contact the patient for you if you’re a relative.”

The man nodded. He had horn-rimmed glasses on and a decent suit, and Cristina was guessing he was her father or something, but rules were rules, and Cristina didn’t want any more trouble today.

In fact, by the time Meredith caught up with her at lunch, Claire Bennet and her magical healing powers had almost completely faded from Cristina’s mind.

“Did you hear that Bailey lost a patient?” Meredith asked, sitting down.

“What?” Cristina asked. “No, I lost the patient. Bailey was taking her to get some X-rays and had me back in the pit because of her continued rage against me.”

“No, seriously!” Meredith said, shaking her head. “Bailey walked out of radiology, said, ‘why am I in here?’ and nobody even remembered her going in. Bailey is pretty sure she had a patient, but…how did you lose the patient?”

“She went to the bathroom,” said Cristina. “No, really. Claire Bennet. There’s a file and everything.”

“You should probably tell Bailey that, because Bailey didn’t have a file,” Meredith said, shaking her head. “That’s so weird.”

Cristina nodded. “Very, very weird,” she said. “You’re sure Bailey didn’t mention Claire?”

“Totally sure,” Meredith said. “You look weirded out.”

“Well, I think this was my patient who was already kind of weird anyway, and then you tell me she’s just gone? It’s super-freaky, especially when there was this guy with glasses asking about her and stuff,” Cristina said, spearing her chicken cutlet fiercely.

What was even freakier was the blank look on Bailey’s face when Cristina told her that the patient’s name was Claire Bennet. “Doesn’t ring a bell,” she said.

“But I lost her,” Cristina said. “Remember? You took her away from me in the pit.”

“No, _I_ lost her,” Bailey said. “Whoever she was. And I didn’t go to the pit this morning, Yang.”

“Yeah you…you were, seriously,” Cristina said. “Are you trying to freak me out or something? Show me that I can be forgotten and lost like this Claire Bennet chick? You know, the one who brought in that kid in the car accident, Jared Quincy.”

“Jared Quincy fell out of a tree,” Bailey said. “He was screwing around. His mom was giving him what for, getting up in the tree again…Yang, you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“Maybe I’m losing it,” said Cristina with a scowl and a shrug. “But I just thought you should know you were taking Claire Bennet in for some X-rays before discharge. She was eighteen, a freshman thinking she’s gonna study evolutionary bio, minoring in religious studies. Saved a life.”

Bailey nodded, and stared off into space. “Well, it’s a good thing you remember, because I sure as hell don’t,” she said. “So you better not be trying to freak me out, or I’ll have you scrubbing bedpans.”

“Got it,” Cristina said. “So what do I do? I could try to find her at the university.”

“Let it go for now, Yang,” Bailey said. “If she’s hurt, she’ll come back and we’ll sort it out then, but we don’t even have a file on her.”

“Let it go?” Cristina said. “Are you crazy?”

“Dr. Shepherd is doing some tests this afternoon to make sure I’m not,” Bailey said. “But that’s not your business. Your business is to go check on my patients this afternoon and explain to them that I have the stomach flu.”

“Of course,” Cristina said, shocked at Bailey’s thoroughly confounded expression. “Maybe somebody drugged your coffee.”

“My patients,” Bailey said, and Cristina let it drop.

Sort of. Between Mr. Edwards, who needed a pacemaker adjustment, and the guy who had the gnarly growth on his neck, and the three old ladies who cussed Cristina out for coming in during the stories, she had time to look up the student registry at every university in Seattle.

Bennet, Claire was a student at U Dub. Bio major, religious studies minor.

The picture didn’t look a thing like the blonde cheerleader Cristina had met that morning. Which didn’t stop Cristina from sending Claire an email.

_This is your doctor from this morning. Where did you go?_

But then one of the old ladies screamed that she needed Doctor Miranda to help her and where was that useless girl who was there instead of Doctor Miranda, and Cristina forgot about it again.

She was actually even a little surprised when she went home, checked her mail, and saw a message that wasn’t spam or her mother sending chain emails. Cristina opened the message, and paused.

_Don’t answer this email. I hope that Dr. Bailey’s okay, and I’m sorry about all the trouble I caused, but I’m fine. But unless you want to find yourself confused and walking around your hospital, you’ve gotta let it go. I’m so sorry. Thx for your help this morning, and I’m really really sorry. Just forget you ever saw me, okay? It’s safer that way._

Cristina knew a non-bluff when she read one. She deleted the message, signed out of the account, and created a new one. When Bailey asked if she’d heard anything about Claire Bennet, Cristina shook her head no. That had been the end of it at Seattle Grace, though doofuses claimed it meant the girl was a ghost and the hospital was haunted.

Actually, those same doofuses gave Cristina the idea. If there was a girl who could walk away scratch-free from a car crash, Cristina was pretty sure that Jared Quincy wasn’t the first kid who’d been saved, or that Seattle Grace was the first hospital with a weird memory lapse.

It took her a month to find the time, but at the end of it, invinciblegirl.com was open for business, under George’s name and via an anonymous WHOIS to boot.

Didn’t take long for the site to reach its millionth visitor and thousandth sighting. There was definitely an invincible girl in Seattle, but nobody could remember her name.

Cristina wasn’t surprised that it was a huge success, even though most of the stories were complete bs. And she knew she’d done it right the day an anonymous letter fell into her inbox.

Very simple, one line, but it was all the vindication Cristina needed.

_Thanks. I think. CB._


End file.
